Chapter Text
I wake on a cold, hard surface. Blink several times.
"Where the FUCK am I?" I breathe as I take in unfamiliar surroundings. I turn my head one way, then the other.
This isn't my bed. This doesn't even look like anywhere I've been. And there is flaming wreckage around me. Was I on a plane last night...? If it crashed, how am I still here?
Another person lays before me. She's in the strangest outfit- is that armor? I sit up and slowly shift over to her, shaking her by her shoulders gently.
"Hey, hey," I say. "Wake up. Where the hell are we? Why are you dressed like that? You LARP?"
The woman groans and holds her head as she sits up, and I pull my hands back. The braid her dark hair is tied up into shifts over her shoulder.
"Um... what?" she asks. Finally her gaze catches on me. "...What are you wearing?" I tilt my head.
"These are my pajamas," I say. I gesture down to the pajama pants hanging off my hips, and the loose tank top that drapes over me.
The woman is silent for a moment, blinking down at what I'm wearing. Her green eyes widen a little as she lifts her gaze to mine.
"...Right, you'll need proper attire," she murmurs. She squints at me then. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Oh, I'm Liv!" I say. I stand, brushing my pants off, and then hold a hand out to her. "And you are?"
She pockets a strange polyhedral device before accepting my help. Then she brushes herself off as well.
"Shadowheart," she says.
I'm quiet for a moment this time. My brows lift as I think it over.
"Right. Interesting name," I say slowly. I look around the beach we're on, and then back toward her. "Okay, so... Do you know where we are?"
She sighs, looking out at the gentle waves lapping at the shore. She folds her arms over her chest as she tilts her head.
"Somewhere in Faerun," she answers finally.
"Fae- what?" I blink. Several times. "Umm... Is there filming happening here that I don't know about?" I wring my hands together, looking around again.
"...Filming?" Shadowheart looks just as confused as I feel. Then she shakes her head.
"There's no time for this nonsense," Shadowheart continues. "We've tadpoles in our heads, so we must figure out how to get rid of them." She starts walking up the path to the left.
For a moment I hesitate, looking back out toward the ocean. And then I quickly follow after her. The sand is a little poky under my bare feet.
"Tadpoles? Like frogs?" I ask. My brows furrow as I consider this. In our heads?
"Mind flayers," she corrects.
"Ohhhh, Dungeons & Dragons, gotcha," I say, nodding my head.
Shadowheart pauses, then turns to look at me over her shoulder. She has one brow lifted.
"You are certainly very odd," she says quietly. I could say the same about you, buddy.
The path we follow is winding, moving us steadily up higher over a hill. Sand gives way to dirt and grass. Another weave through a patch of sand, and there at the top of the hill stands a man with pale hair.
"Who's that?" I whisper to Shadowheart. She lets out a long sigh.
"I have no idea, but be on your guard," she mutters to me. She draws her mace as we step forward.
The man, as he comes more into focus, draws a dagger. I glance back and forth between the two of them. They both have pointy ears.
"Wow, you both have such believable ears," I say then. "Where did you get them?"
This earns a very deep brow furrow from Shadowheart, and the man's brows lift.
"I was born with them?" Shadowheart says slowly.
"Ohhh, okay," I say. My brows knit together. Real. Born with them. What? I look to the man with pale hair. "Sooo, a birth defect?"
"I'm a half-elf," Shadowheart sighs. I look to her again.
"Wow, you're really in your character," I say with a nod of my head. The man and Shadowheart both blink.
The man's gaze narrows, and he slowly raises the dagger.
"Sick props," I say, giving them both thumbs up. Referring to what they're both holding. I step in closer to the man, looking the dagger over.
I hear a smack sound, and look back to see Shadowheart running her hand down her face.
"That's- that's a real dagger," she mutters.
The man, meanwhile, frowns at me and pulls the dagger back an inch. I look up into his eyes then. Red.
"Nice contacts," I blurt. The man blinks again.
"Contacts?" Shadowheart asks, tilting her head slowly. She looks around as if there might be more people around.
"Lenses?" I offer.
"Ah, yes, that helps so much," Shadowheart says. She throws one hand up in the air. I turn back to the man.
"So, what's your name?" I ask him.
He groans, rolling his eyes skyward. His shoulders lower, and so does the dagger. Finally he drops his gaze back to mine.
"Astarion," he says, voice smooth and low.
"You all have such weird names," I mutter, shaking my head. Astarion cocks a brow at that.
"And your name is...?" he presses.
"Liv," Shadowheart and I say at the same time.
"And I'm Shadowheart," she adds in. Astarion glances toward her, and then back to me. Then he gestures a hand over me.
"What in the hells are you wearing?" he asks.
My face heats, and I look down at my clothes. Then back up at him. He's wearing armor just like Shadowheart, but styled differently.
"They are my pajamas," I say calmly. "I was sleeping in my bed."
I take a step back, bringing a hand to my chin as I look around. Then I mutter, "This has to be some sort of elaborate prank."
Louder, as I cup my hands around my mouth, "Alright, guys! You can come out now! Very funny, haha, I woke up on a beach!"
No one responds. Astarion and Shadowheart slowly raise their brows at me. The smile on my face falters.
"...Oh dear," I breathe.
"I assure you, if this were a prank, I would not be participating," Shadowheart says. When Astarion sheathes his dagger, she settles her mace back near her hip.
Shadowheart gestures toward the flaming debris littering the beach.
"That is a mind flayer vessel," she says. "They are not known for their sense of humor."
I look out at the wreckage again. Something in my stomach drops.
"Right, mind flayer vessel," I say distantly. "Wonderful."
Astarion tilts his head as he looks me over. Then he folds his arms over his chest.
"How unfortunate for you," he says quietly. Shadowheart shoots him a look. "Oh, don't pretend you're not thinking it. She clearly has no idea what's going on."
"Yes, that has been abundantly clear," Shadowheart says with a shake of her head.
Astarion hums softly, quiet for a moment.
"Well, if someone is orchestrating a prank, they've gone to considerable effort," he says, as if actually considering the idea.
Shadowheart waves a hand over toward the path, where it continues to wind up the hill. She places one hand on her hip.
"Regardless. We have a more pressing matter to address," she says. She lifts her hand from her hip to tap the side of her head. "The tadpole."
Astarion's expression tightens just slightly. "Yes, that," he says quietly.
I hold my hands up then, shaking my head slowly. I take a deep, slow breath.
"You guys are very convinced this is all real, and not some movie set," I say. "I think you need professional help."
Rather than waiting around for their reply, I make my way up the path like Shadowheart suggested. Surely there will be a familiar street this way.
There isn't. There is however a rock with a glowing purple mass in the center, a hand sticking out from it.
"Ah- a hand, please? Anyone?" a voice calls out from the rock.
I stop and stare at the rock. That's no visual effect.
"She thinks we're insane," Shadowheart whispers to Astarion. I hear a faint chuckle from Astarion.
"To be fair, from her perspective, we might be," he offers quietly. He clears his throat and asks, louder, "What is a movie set?"
"I stopped trying to understand half the things she says," Shadowheart cuts in.
"Is anyone there?" the voice calls again.
Shadowheart moves forward, and grabs the hand, giving a firm yank. A man comes tumbling out of the rock. A man. From the rock. My jaw hangs open.
"My apologies, I'm usually a lot better at this," the man says, brushing off the front of his robes. Shadowheart looks him up and down. "I'm Gale of Waterdeep." He holds his hand out.
"What the fuck," I say under my breath.
Gale's hand lowers, and he turns to look at me.
"I beg your pardon?" he asks. Astarion gestures toward the rock.
"You've just climbed out of a glowing magical anomaly," he explains. "You'll have to forgive her. She seems to be having some difficulty accepting the situation."
Shadowheart sighs and crosses her arms. She adds in, "She believes this is a prank." Gale blinks.
"A prank." He looks me over then.
"Yes," Astarion confirms.
"With a mind flayer ship," Gale continues.
"Apparently," Shadowheart mutters.
"Where exactly in America are we?" I ask lightly. I worry my bottom lip.
"America? What is that?" Gale asks.
"This is Faerun," Shadowheart reminds me. I stare blankly at her.
"Right. Faerun. Not America. Got it." I sink down onto the ground. "Haha. This is fine. I'm surrounded by crazy people, but this is fine. And a rock was just glowing? Totally normal. Happens all the time. Men come out of rocks all the time."
"I'm starting to wonder if the tadpole damaged her mind," Shadowheart mutters to Astarion and Gale.
Gale crouches before me, studying me. I frown up at him.
"That's actually not impossible," he says. "The parasites are known to cause neurological disturbances in the early stages."
"Oh, please," Astarion says lazily. He waves a hand through the air, shaking his head once. "If that were the case, we'd all be speaking nonsense by now."
"I need my phone," I say suddenly.